


A boy can bleed

by chaoticneurobivergent



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Periods, Trans Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15400929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticneurobivergent/pseuds/chaoticneurobivergent
Summary: Keith was focused on the scent of moist grass in the air when the ball of paint hit his stomach. The impact was done just under his safety jacket, at the worst place, to be honest. But under the shock Keith didn’t even realize, his body falling down backwards until it met the mud.- a paintball game is stopped, Keith's voice plays hide and seek, unwanting thoughts invite themselves, but eventually comfort & strength are found again.





	A boy can bleed

**Author's Note:**

> a short thing I originally wrote in 1h for a game [in french and on ff.net ](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12681112/1/Un-gar%C3%A7on-peut-saigner)  
> this english translation was then posted [on my writing tumblr](https://ghostkartenwriter.tumblr.com/post/166226467281/a-boy-can-bleed)  
> it was time to bring it on AO3, enjoy!

Keith was focused on the scent of moist grass in the air when the ball of paint hit his stomach. The impact was done just under his safety jacket, at the worst place, to be honest. But under the shock Keith didn’t even realize, his body falling down backwards until it met the mud. The humiditity made him sneeze, and that was only there that the pain deepen and he heard the steps coming near him.

They weren’t supposed to stop at every shot of paintball and Keith frowned in front of this excessive reaction. He slowly lifted up and when he tried to speak, he realized his voice left him momentarely – of course, he always got non-verbal at the best times. He looked down towards his belly, afraid of what he would see, but there only was a red stain who had exploded. He was still hurt, and now he remembered screaming before falling to the ground – this explained that.

Both teams stood up in front of him – Shiro and Pidge on a side, and their opponents Hunk, Allura and Lance on the other. They had stopped asking him questions and they were now arguing over what to do. The concern he was reading every time one of his friend glanced at him started to sink in, his heart pounding and his voice still not coming back. He should be deahtly pale, he may had lie down longer than he thought. Keith focused to catch a few syllables, some words, until he was able to understand the sentences which flew so fast. One, especially, brought him back to reality.

“We should take him to the hospital.”

“No!”

He spit the word out with too much violence, his voice wrapping up the brouhaha of the others until a heavy silence ruled instead. The surprise dressed all five faces which turned to him, and he looked down, blushing, regretting not stopping his tongue before she ran away – tongue which, now, was back in his throat and refused to give more explainations.

He raised up in order to wrap his limbs with each others – forehead against his knees, thighs pushing on his belly, arms around his legs. It was a way to lock himself up; if he squeezed hard enough, maybe he could ran from their ideas, go back to this second state of mind, away from reality. But the pain was still hurting, his sight blurred and he started wondering if, after all, the offer wasn’t legitimate.

Lance – he was the one who suggested the hospital – pulled away from the group and got closer. He bended down to his height.

“Hey.”

Keith replied internally, repeating the simple word in his mind and trying to force his throat to speak, but his lips stayed closed. He focused on his breathing, on the up and downs of his chest and, step by step, he opened his mouth letting a few breath go. Another long minute passed until, finally, his calm voice came back.

“Hey.”

“You’re gonna be okay?”

Another pause – but at this point, they all knew they just had to give him some time. And Keith took the time he needed to raise his head and wonder about his state. It wasn’t an usual reaction. Paintball could hurt, yes, but it was never more than a dizziness and a bruise. It wasn’t enough to make him fall and nearly faint, not enough for his head to spin and his senses to blurred, clearly not enough for his belly to suffer that much, as if an invisible alien was stabbing him with a knife just so he could take it away and stab again, and again, and again, and the red stain seemed to spread way too far and – oh.

“Shit.”

And then Keith complained in a torrent of swear words and insults pouring in front of dumbstrucks spectators. The same reason why he dreaded hospital and any doctor was the same reason why he was in this state. And like every month, like every time, Keith cursed his uterus and its tantrums. Not only for their love of irony, but mainly for their venom which was poisoning his days, reminding him that no binder, no accessory, will stop them from existing. And they enjoyed coming back in his thoughts each time he felt a bit too good, a bit too accepted, like a scourge he didn’t deserve.

When his voice, hoarse and exhausted, finally stopped, Keith let the tears take the helm as he fell down in Lance’s arms. He chose to ignore the blood between his legs, he chose to ignore the cloud of dark thoughts it brought, he chose the comfort of the caress on his back and the whispers in his ear. He survived it tons of times with tears, screams and disgust; he will survive it again, his violence mingling with Lance’s sweet words repeating that everything was going to be fine, that he was going to be fine, that a boy can bleed and get back up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading & don't hesitate to leave a comment and/or a kudo! or follow me for more trans and neurodivergent stories (yes I have more)


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